On The Fountains Edge

Chapter One

In a small town lived many rich people who owned, what they call cursed slaves. People have used the cursed for many years, even though they live short lives. All of the cursed have a mark on some part of their body, not all being the same. This helps people who are and, who are not cursed people, tell the difference. Some people have been know to feel bad for the cursed do to how they die. When a cursed dies, they will turn into stone. By law their masters are ordered to shatter them to look like they were preempted, then they are to spread their remains into, what people now call, the slave fountain.

A young lady wearing an apron walked towards a big light brown door.  "Where are you off to at this hour Mister Burnhard?"

A man wearing a large drench coat walked in making it so his body was parsley in the room of which the maiden stood. His coat was a leather brown that reached all the way to the floor. He smirked, putting his hand on the rusty doorknob. "I'm going to the auction, there's a little girl who I wish to see."

"Why do you bother going to those things, you never buy anything there anyway? You always say that there's a person that you are interested in, how is this different?" She sighed.

His face turned into the sun as his lips parted to speak. "This girl is different because she has a story, and shes only four. I'm hopping that I can purchases her so I can save her form the life of misery she might encounter. This little girl has only seen iron bars, so I'm hopping to change that, be her hero."

The young lady crossed her arms, tilting her hips to her right. "So, you're telling me you're going to purchases a young cursed girl to become her hero? You are one strange man, Mister Burnhard. Well I hope all goes well today. Don't, I repeat, do not, spend too much on this little slave girl, you hear me?"

Mister Burnhard nodded. "I can't promise anything. I'll be back for supper, so please do wait for me, Angel." The man walked down the broken pathway, ivy attacking every wall like a shadow.  The sun was bright making the world warm. People in every corner smiling as they whip and tortured their slaves. No one cared that they're crying, it only gave them more reason to beat them. It hurt Burnhard's heart to see people he thought to be just like everyone else, get beaten, almost to death, every day. 

"Morning sir, please answer these few questions honestly. Whats your full name, and age?"

"My name is Valens Burnhard and I am 47 years of age."

"Alright, take this sign and proceed to the hall, the auction will begin very shortly." Valens bowed his head before walking to an empty seat.

Crowds of people pored in, making the room hot with all their body heat. Peoples shoulders touched wall to wall, men stood waiting to spend their money on things that they think will be valuable to them. Mister Burnhard could feel his heart beat with fear of not seceding in what he set out to do. To calm his nerves, Burnhard looked at the skin colored ceiling, slowly bringing his head to the floor. He took a breath to fill his lungs with the hot air that was circling through out the room. Wanting to relieve the pressure in his lungs, Burnhard, blew out all the air he could. Suddenly a tall man banged a dark brown mallet on the podium before him. All the men's eyes looked towards the man in the front of the room.

"Settle down men! The Actuation is about to begin, so take your seats and get prepared for the best objects you can get." The man paused, waiting for everyone to take their seat. "Now that you are seated, let me tell you the rules. Rule one, don't auction more then you can afford, if you do, you will be indebted to us. Number two, all actions are final, no returns. Last rule, Raise your sign, before you speak of your price. Now that that's done with, time for the auction to begin. Have fun!" All the people in the room became rowdy, getting existed for the first object. "To begin with, we have a vintage painting from over a hundred years ago. The creator has only made 12 works, and is known as Dalvy the 12th man. Any bidders?" Burnhard had no interest in all the things that they were selling, the only thing he wanted was the girl, who would be sold last, do to being the most valuable at the auction. His eyes wondered around the room as he waited. Burnhards ears slowly came to hear, "and for are last auction of the day, we have Emer Sanduo. This girl is only four years of age, with no parents, and is prepared to follow any orders. Do I hear any offers?"